It's A Life, Anyways
by AnotherPerson5
Summary: Wristcutters: A Love Story. Zia/Eugene slash. R&R would be cool and very much appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I meant this to be a smaller drabbleish type deal, but it turned into something...else. Trying to decide whether to wrap things up in the next chapter or make a third.**

"You back here again? What are you like dumbass or something?"

Zia stopped walking to glare at him, the one he used when Eugene had gotten drunk and managed to eat all of his roommates cottage cheese within fifteen minutes. Then later while Zia was being yelled at by Erik, asked with a straight face how he could be so inconsiderate of people's stuff.

And just like then his only response to Zia's glare was to hold his hands out in a half shrug, "What? I say something?"

"Yeah man, you're like saying all the _wrong_ things. And could you keep your hands on the wheel, Jesus, Eugene."

Eugene was currently following beside Zia in his car, a new one if you could call it that, that he'd either bought or found alongside the road. It was moving at a slow crawl with Eugene half hanging out of the window, a cigarette pinched carelessly between two fingers as he steered off and on with one hand.

"Listen. Get in the car and we'll talk about it." Zia exhaled deeply, "You can't walk forever man. I roll you a cigarette, get in." He reached over to unlock the passenger's side seat, the car still moving.

Zia thought about it. He could keep going forever that was for sure. Eternally damned to a pointless existence to appreciate the life (_lives) _he'd given up. He could follow the curves of the road until he forgot his name and theirs…hers, but Eugene was right, he couldn't walk forever.

~*~

"So," Zia bent over, lining up his shot and scratching the pool stick on the table, pausing to swear, "Whatever happened to…Ulga?"

"Nanuk." Eugene muttered around a cigarette, taking the stick and breaking the rack with a smirk, "I got colors."

"Yeah yeah." Zia leaned against the wall, reaching for his beer as Eugene prowled around the table searching for that perfect shot like it was a tournament, "So, uh, what happened?"

"You were gone a long time. Went up to meet her family, took ma, pa, little brother for a trip. She was a good girl. There was something spiritual like in her voice. Ma cried first time she heard it." he sank three in one shot and jabbed his fist through the air like a boxer. When he missed the next he tossed Zia the stick and laughed when he fumbled with it, spilling beer on his shirt.

"So what, you guys are just over now?" Zia asked, squinting at the table to figure out how the ex vocalist had made the first shot.

"'Buddy, _life_ is over. What do you think we were going to do? Have kids, get married?" he snorted, "'fuck out of here. Good experience, left it at that." He gave a nod of appreciation when Zia ricocheted a shot, narrowly missing the eight ball. "Kostya stayed."

"He did?" Zia had always liked him. He was sweet and had always seemed to take his older brother's coarse behavior in good stride. He was always there to refill a cup or make light-hearted conversation. Eugene had said that he was one of the few that had found peace in death and it showed.

"Yeah, fell for some ex snow boarder. Offed himself with a flamethrower." He made a circling motion around his ear, "All sorts of crazy that one."

_Like Nanuk was all that sane_, Zia wanted to say but didn't. Without realizing it Eugene has cleared off nearly all the balls on the table, including ones not his own. Satisfied he hangs up the stick, slapping Zia's chest,

"You owe me a pizza."

~*~

Erik left. Maybe to live with someone who peed sitting down and was lactose intolerant or something. Anyways Zia spent thirty minutes reapplying for his old job at Kamikaze Pizza and an hour searching every spot of the small apartment for his old uniform before Eugene showed up and threw it on top of his head. He sort of wanted to ask why he had it, but then decided that much like Eugene himself the reason would either be strange, make no sense or something so simple as to make him feel like an idiot.

Eugene gave him a couple cases of beer and a cigarette roller as a home…re-warming gift. It was probably one of the nicest things Eugene had ever done besides sticking around for Zia's quest to find Desire. The thought made him depressed so he opened up a beer while Eugene smoked and put on some music. The same tape, the same beers, probably even the same tobacco.

For a while they talked about nothing. Eugene told old stories about his band while Zia listened and drank; he talked about Nanuk and her family, explaining how they'd all offed; about how he'd ran into Kneller again when someone cracked in the head tried to kill his girlfriend in front of her friends.

"On my way back…Desire found me."

Zia coughed, flicking cigarette ashes on the floor, "Oh yeah." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, she asked about you."

"What'd you tell her?"

"What I knew. You took my car, next week found car speeding in the desert without you in it."

"God." He gave a dry laugh, putting the bottle to his lips and finding it empty.

"That's all I knew. Found out from Kneller's buddy what happened. Good way to show your appreciation, coming back and all."

He was greeted by another loud sigh as Zia stood up, interlacing his hands atop his head, "I don't know what I was thinking man. I mean I thought we were in love."

"Men don't fall in love, that's girl shit."

"Nah, I mean with Desire…it was real, ya know? I wanted to die as much as I wanted to stay in love with her, so no matter what happened it didn't matter. With Mikal," he turned around, "I know what you thought man but she really didn't belong here."

"Course she didn't. Girl like that. What's the point?"

"I don't know, I just felt alive with her and for a while that's what I wanted to be. But once you get there the real world sets in, ya know, all the reasons I had for offing were still there minus the fact that the person I loved wasn't, " he closed his eyes, "I caught her in bed with her old drug dealer."

Eugene crossed his arms, "Knew it."

"God, Eugene could you just _not _right now, alright, I know what you thought of her. I'm trying to tell you what happened."

"I know what happened psychoanalysis boy. Off, fall for a girl, girl's a slut, off again. Meant to be here." Then maybe out of drunkenness or genuine affection Eugene stood up and pulled Zia roughly against his chest, "You're family and family never really leaves, eh?" He hit the side of his head light, "You missed your old pal is all."

When Zia pulls away Eugene's eyes are bright and his hat is skewed to the side and he's not smiling because he's looking at Zia the way he looked when his father and mother were telling Zia and Kostya about the old country. He looks like someone who actually cares about the person in front of him and might have actually felt something when he realized he'd never see that person again.

"Eugene-"

"Enough talk tonight. You're drunk. I come over tomorrow we'll shoot some hoops, you stay over for dinner."

"Yeah, yeah okay." Zia nods and Eugene hugs him tightly once more before disappearing with that look still on his face.

~*~

Zia was only gone two years but time passes differently and Eugene whoops, loud and obnoxious when he wins countless games while Zia struggles to keep up with him. Later, after he'd showered and taken a nap, Zia shoved stale dough into the oven and wondered what Eugene did all day really. If he'd always just hung around the bar putting horrible moves on women or if Zia was just the only one he felt he could relate to out of everyone in town.

In opposing moods throughout the day he wondered why anyone would like Eugene and again how they could hate him. He was an asshole sometimes and wasn't the greatest when it came to impulse control, but he was also the guy that shoved bad tasting food down Zia's throat that night at dinner. Who rolled his eyes when his friend didn't ask for another drink because he didn't want to interrupt, and handed him the entire vodka bottle before protruding loudly into the conversation pointedly.

After a while he still wondered, but didn't let it get in the way of enjoying spending time with the Russian. Eugene hated that he could learn something from someone like Zia, but the trip had done him good. He still loved to do the usual stuff, basketball, drinking, ditching Zia to ask the girl at the end of the bar if she wanted to hear an "electrifying story". But he also drove up to Kamikaze to take the younger to an abandoned factory just to look around. It was like they were kids; Eugene leaving him in the boiler room than jumping down behind him from a gap in the ceiling and doing a small jig when Zia yelped and fell over from surprise.

~*~

While mopping off the tables Eugene calls to him from outside the white washed windows, snatching off Zia's hat when he complies.

"Kostya has come back!" His face is triumphant, "He's four days away. Get in the car."

"What?"

"Get in the car, you make me tell you twice?"

Zia bit his lower lip before throwing up his hands, "Fine, fine."

"I snagged your cigarette roller and case of vodka."

"So I'm driving."

"Relax. No void beneath the seat for you to drop my shit into, I'm sure you'll be disappointed."

"It's not like I did it on purpose." Zia repeats for the millionth time, catching the keys

"Whatever you say. You touch my stuff I put a void in your head."


	2. Chapter 2

"So why is he coming back?"

Eugene stares at him blankly for a moment before turning back to the road

"I didn't ask."

"Oh….why not?"

"Because I didn't. What do I need to know for, so long as he's coming back."

Zia shrugs, staring out his window, "I don't know. You said he was staying, then he calls you out of the blue asks us to drive all this-"

"He didn't _ask _me for anything, he told me that-"

"I know, I'm just saying-"

"I'm there for my brother whenever-"

"Yeah, but a normal person would want-"

"I should put him through what fifty questions before I agree-"

"No you shouldn't put him through fifty questions, what are ya talking about, I'm just-"

Eugene reaches for his sunglasses, "Maybe you should just not say anything," he raises an eyebrow at him over the rim of the blue shades and adds in his clipped manner, "for the rest of the trip. Problem solved."

Zia nods, staring down at the lines in his hand

~*~

The attendant at the gas station apparently drowned himself, the slow drip of water coming from his ear distracting Zia from the row of chips. There was a brand they used to get, the kind that had made perfect road food. A foreign brand…maybe.

"Need any help, guy?"

"Uh no," he grabs a couple of each and maneuvers it and the rest of the things up to the counter. Drumming his fingers on a pile of pamphlets he watches the clerk ring everything up at a slow, concentrated pace, reading the labels of each item and punching in the SKU number . Outside Eugene holds up the hood of his car while the other twists and pulls at something in annoyance.

When he lets the hood fall shut, Zia tosses him a bag of chips and a soda.

"Good brand," he shakes the soda, "Thanks."

"Yeah no problem."

"About earlier," he starts as they fork to either sides of the car

Zia concentrates on the door handle, "It's okay. Forget about it."

"Here, drive a bit." he crawls over the partition into the passenger's seat after starting up the car

"Don't fall asleep."

Eugene looks insulted, "I won't."

~*~

Zia shoves Eugene's snoring head to the side, eyes leaving the road to tug the jacket from beneath the other's head. The bands' old tape is still there so he puts it in after draping the jacket back over Eugene's shoulder.

"_When there is trap, set up for you in ever corner of this town and so you learn the only way to go is-"_

"Through the roof." Eugene mutters sleepily

Zia twiddles his thumb on the steering wheel, "Or underground."

He buries his face into his shoulder, murmurs a muffled "'course" and resumes snoring.

~*~

Two days later Eugene talks to his brother from a payphone while Zia fiddles uselessly with the radio and tries not to think of the time him and Mikal had drawn smiley faces on the dashboard and tried in vain to mimic them with their own mouths.

When Eugene gets back he says that Kostya hitched a ride and will meet them at a motel that's only a few hours left of where they are near sundown. When Zia nods he says in a brisk tone of voice that Kostya wouldn't tell him what was wrong, but that he would be coming alone.

~*~

Their room smells like stale laundry and meat so of course Eugene loves it. He sits down on the single bed with his back against the wall in striped boxers, a white beater and black socks and plays solitaire with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. There isn't much to do so Zia watches him and gets drunk.

He lays on the gray carpet and thinks of Desire and Mikal and the look on his parent's faces when he woke up. He couldn't tell them about what happened, he didn't think they'd believe him. And Mikal…well she'd never wanted to kill herself in the first place.

"We're alive," she'd told him when he'd brought it up, "that place was hellish and I'd really appreciate it if you never mentioned it again, okay?"

Her voice had been sweet and intense just like her so he hadn't. He'd gone to counseling, found another job, stopped drinking beer and eating pizza. It had seemed like it was going to be okay. The wounds hadn't healed over completely but for a while he looked at them and just saw scars and not memories. He over thought a lot of things and until he'd caught Mikal that night he'd been going with the flow, doing what he was supposed to do.

But it hadn't necessarily been because of her. He'd tried to tell her that once, hadn't he? That if he went back he had a feeling he would miss _this _and she'd thought he meant just her. But it was everything. He couldn't smile, he could barely feel but that's what made it okay. He didn't have to worry about things like that anymore, it was a surrender, a release, to just _be _without the weight of wondering if he had a purpose. It was freedom.

She didn't understand.

A spotlight passes over Zia's face and he squints until it passes. Eugene is off the bed, at the window, knocking on it to gain his brother's attention. Zia lifts his head and sees Kostaya on the other side, gesturing emphatically for Eugene to unlock the door but being ignored as his older brother continues to yell at him in Russian. Well he's probably not yelling but the language is passionate so it sort of sounds like it.

When Zia gets up to open the door he's still not sure if Eugene was angry, but he grips Kostya's shoulders and asks in English where he got the new shoes so at least for now it's alright.

Out of his brother's grip Kostya just stares at Zia blankly, "You came back."

"Oh, yeah I did."

The boy gives him a hug, his mouth parted in amazement as he looks him over one more time just to be sure, "How did you do it?"

"Gas."

"I thought your lips looked bluer. Huh."

Turning around he sees that Eugene is on the phone, holding up a finger when he notices the silence.

"Ma," Kostya rolls his eyes, "I don't what's up with her. I mean what's the worst that could have happened to me, I die? Too late for that."

"Is there anything worse than death?"

"Yeah, kidney pie. Bathroom?"

Zia pointed.

~*~

Eugene and Zia sit on the couch while Kostya sits across from them on the floor to play cards. They don't talk about things right away because there isn't any rush. Eugene looks at his brother, clean shaven, his light hair stringy and matted and Zia swears a muscle jumps in his cheek. He doesn't say anything though, flicks another penny onto the stack and nudges Zia to make a move.

When Kostya finally does start talking its when Eugene leaves to get ice for the drinks, slipping on a pair of loafers and telling them to lock the door.

"So, I heard you fell for someone."

"Eugene tell you that?" the younger boy curls his legs up to his chest, clutching the neck of the warm beer, "Yeah I guess I did."

"Tell me about him."

"He was nice…and eccentric and all the things that I wasn't."

"Oh come on you're pretty nice."

"Enough I guess. I'm also pretty selfish too. His name was Jazon, he almost made it to the Olympics before, for snowboarding. The pressure got to him."

"So he set himself on fire?"

Kostya blinks in confusion before rolling his eyes, "Not intentionally. God I wish Eugene would listen to half the things I said before telling everyone."

Zia nods, gesturing for Kostya's beer and using the table to open it, "So what happened?"

"He was trying to breath in noxious fumes and right when he was slipping the wind picked up the flame and burned him. Anyways yeah," he took a sip, "I fell for him. I mean I was with guys before but never _with _them because when I realized it I came out. Then dad offed and I couldn't talk to Eugene about it so I offed and it's not like I was wanting to find someone after that."

"Why are you here and not with him?"

"Yeah," Kostya looks down, "good question."

"What are you like having Oprah moment, help me with ice." They both shuffle to their feet, "You didn't even lock the door."

"Why would we lock the door, Eugene?"

"Because I told you to lock the door. Take the ice."

"I got the ice."

"You're spilling it all over the floor. Give it back."

"I told ya I got the ice."

"Yeah well you got the ice all over the floor. If I wanted ice to be on the floor-"

"What you'd go to a skating-"

"Skating what would I go skating for-"

"rink, I was going to say rink if you'd let me-"

"Sit down with little brother I let you do that. Go."

Kostya watches the exchange in vague amusement, Zia throwing up his hands and sitting on the couch to watch Eugene transfer the beers and half empty bottle of vodka into the ice bucket. It was sort of adorable, but he couldn't quite find the balls to say it with Eugene still in the room.

His older brother sits on the bed while Zia remains on the couch, mumbling to himself and shooting hopeful looks at Eugene.

"Hey guys, I got an idea."

~*~

Fifteen minutes later the three of them are on the side of the motel with three large buckets and a mass of ping pong balls. Kostya explains the rules. Throw the balls against the wall and try to get them into someone's bucket, each time a ball gets in the person has to drink the ghastly alcoholic mixture within it. If five balls fall into their bucket they have to chug the whole thing. Last person standing wins.

"When I was young we didn't play games to get drunk." Eugene says, lining up his bucket beside Zia's, "Drinking was the game, we earned the drink by sneaking it out of our grandmother's cabinet and not getting caught."

"Just go with it." Zia whispers, "I mean it sounds like fun."

"Frat boy bullshit. Should have never sent him to college."

"You guys ready?"

"Yeah, let's do it." Eugene grumbled

~*~

"You need a good boy…like Zia." Eugene says

The first game had gone quickly, Kostya the first to go leaving Zia and Eugene who had measured the shots more focused on winning than drinking. When five balls floated in Zia's bucket he'd drained it then walked to the edge of the parking lot and sat with his head spinning. Forgetting all talk of frat boy antics Eugene had sent Kostya for another bottle and tugged Zia up by the arm and insisted on another game before they passed out or fell asleep.

"Look, you accept that the world spins and you spin in opposite direction. It's logic."

"Yeah like you know a lot about logic or something."

But he'd gotten up, blinked at the swaying wall and played another round while Kostya watched from the sides. The balls had gotten lost in the darkness, but at that point only Eugene had been keeping score and gave it up to sit against the wall in between his brother and Zia.

"So I'm a good boy now?" Zia chews his nail off in disinterest

"Always were." Eugene grunts, placing a hand on the back of Kostya's neck, " He traveled miles for girl he loved. Watched her run off with nut job."

"Hey, listen, she didn't run off with the Messiah she just…followed him…everywhere" he scratched the side of his head, "I mean I don't know."

Kostya rests his head on his knees, "Zia's not really my type. No offense."

Zia waves the comment away, but Eugene looks insulted, placing his other hand on the back of Zia's neck and craning the other two men's heads towards one another, his eyes bloodshot

"How is he not your type? Doesn't set himself on fire during skiing race, not your type?"

"He didn't off by setting himself-"

"Same-"

"It isn't the same thing."

"Stubborn." Eugene spits, letting go of them, "Gets it from me."

"Yeah well if you like Zia so much why aren't you with him?"

"He is, don't you see him sitting right there." He blinks, "I don't know if I can."

Eugene's face is blank, ignoring Zia and looking at his brother, "You think I couldn't."

Kostya shrugs with the same lack of emotion, "I don't think anything, Gene."

"Doesn't take balls to be a fag. Ten guys offered to blow me once," he holds up both hands, "Ten. Show wasn't even good."

Zia groans, lifting his arm in a stretch, "Oh come on Eugene nobody cares how many guys want to blow you alright? And that's bull anyways. That's like some media bullshit that everybody wants to be with a guitarist."

"Guitarist _and_ singer. I was front man. Tight pants, eyeliner, big guitar," he makes an insinuating gesture, "You telling me fags don't dig that?"

"How should I know?" Suddenly Zia finds two sets of dubious eyes on him and shifts slightly away to stare back at them, "You guys I'm not gay."

"Not even a little bit? On side maybe?"

"What! No. I was in love with Desire."

"Kostya was in love with Isabella."

"Maria."

"You telling me you've never been gay."

"No, well I mean I-I experimented in-"

"So you were gay."

'No, Eugene, experimenting doesn't make you gay. It's-It's not like the flu or something where you get it off and on for the rest of your life."

"You trying to protect my feelings? Saying you're not gay so you don't have to say you don't like me."

Zia gaped, "It's like you don't even have ears when I start talking."

"Zia-"

"I'm going inside." He stands, stumbling briefly against the wall before finding his equilibrium and stalking off

"Zia!" Eugene looked at Kostya and shrugged, "Denial. It's healthy."


	3. Chapter 3

~*~

Zia wakes up with a knot of pain slowly forming from his spine up. He hadn't known whether Kostya would want to sleep on the bed or couch and out of consideration had taken up post on the carpet in front of the couch. He'd also thought that solitaire would be the perfect game and consequently he is forced to peel a three of clubs off his cheek, dropping it back onto the table and looking around the room.

A cigarette is floating in midair.

_Wait…what?_

"Eugene?" He yawns, rubbing at one of his eyes, "What are you doing up?"

"Smoking what does it look like?"

"Dunno," he yawns again, "Whatimesit?" silence, "Time?"

"Four…five"

"Six, seven, eight. Yeah, what does it matter right?" he clears his throat, his head spinning, "Ugh, I feel horrible. Buckets are bad." he groans, levering himself onto the couch and closing his eyes again, "Do you have a cigarette?"

Eugene stands up from the bed, his bare feet brushing against the carpet. Zia can kinda remember their conversation from earlier. Something about ten guys, media stereotypes, Eugene in leather and eye liner. He's sure it made sense at the time.

"Won't make you feel better." Eugene grunts, shoving Zia's feet onto the floor and sitting beside him. Forced up he rests his elbow on his knee, "Probably worse."

"Yeah ,well, when in Rome."

"Kostya went to diner, call Jazon, get something to eat."

When Zia looks up it's to Eugene staring at him. Just staring. The eye contact makes his head hurt and he really wants something to drink, but not with Eugene staring at him like that. It's creepy and he wants to say so, but instead he just takes a drag

"That's-that's good ya know. I mean he loves him. And you know what-" he points a finger at Eugene with a smirk, "that is sometimes all you need."

"Fuck it." he takes Zia's cigarette and stubs it out on the table

"What?"

And then Eugene kisses him and his breath smells way better than Zia's which he knows is stupid to think about considering the circumstances but, well, it matters. He's been awake for however long and he's obviously had time to change because he smells a little like coffee and his voice isn't just-woke-up harsh whereas Zia smells like a booze filled ash tray.

But also Eugene kisses hard and his fingers are digging into Zia's hair like he's trying to tell him something important and wants him to pay attention. So he does. He closes his eyes and lets Eugene part his lips with his fists balled up on his thighs as Eugene commandeers the kiss. Passionate, but to the point, their bodies swaying slightly as Eugene tries to press him into the couch but Zia resists, deepening the kiss and trying to get an arm around Eugene's waist to pull him closer. Just as his fingers grasp at the others belt loop, Eugene pulls away.

Zia lets him, not that he really has a choice and for a moment they both stare at the door. There's words and things that need to be said but Zia is too tired to figure out what they are. So when Eugene stretches, pats the back of Zia's head and tells him to change before Kostya gets back, all he can do is accept the torn shirt tossed to him and ask if there's a toothbrush in the bathroom.

~*~

"We're going to have to talk about it Eugene."

"Why?"

Eugene balances on the curbs' edge, checking the watch on his hand and staring up the street where his car will hopefully reappear within the next few minutes.

"Because. You don't just kiss people and walk away. It's…stupid." Eugene starts to roll his eyes, "And-and straight friends don't kiss other friends without warning."

"Look I was just proving point. You screw guy you're horny, kiss one? Gay."

Zia abandons the rock he'd been kicking, meeting Eugene's eyes, "In what world does that even begin to make sense?"

"You want answer to that?"

"No, I don't want…never mind." he sighs, "I think that's Kostya."

Eugene turns his head, waving his brother down before he can pull into the parking lot. Without questioning, Zia gets into the backseat, staring out of the window as Kostya looks between the both of them. He twists in his seat to ask Zia if he wants to sit up front but the older shakes his head, lifting his feet up and closing his eyes as Eugene flips the car in the opposite direction.

~*~

"Is Zia okay? You guys haven't spoken for like two hours straight."

"So? Nothing to say."

"There's never anything to say, you guys still talked. It's weirding me out." He glances at Zia, still waiting in line to pay for the gas and sodas, "What'd you do?"

"Oh, what you saying it's my fault? Kid's all messed up. Try to help," he traces his thumb across his throat, "cuts my head off. Done with it."

There's silence as both of them watch Zia fumble with the sodas at the counter, knocking over a set of lighters and apologizing as he kneels to collect all of them up.

~*~

Zia turns around to find Eugene directly behind him and stumbles sideways against the wall of the abandoned house.

"Christ," he yelps, zipping up and turning around, "Uh, need something?"

"I wasn't trying to be asshole." he says, getting straight to the point as always

"I know you weren't. It just caught me off guard. I'm sorry."

"So am I." He bites his nail off, looking at Zia, "So should I ask you from now on?"

"Uh, ask me what?" And if Zia's voice is a little shaky when he says it, it's only because Eugene has suddenly stepped in close, placing one hand on the wall next to Zia's head with his thumb barely grazing his ear

"To kiss you. Girls don't like that, the asking, like to just _do _it. So I'm asking."

Zia takes in a shallow breath, "To kiss me."

And instead of coming back with the usual sarcastic retort Eugene just leans in closer, his other hand catching in one of the tears in Zia's shirt, scratching over the skin between the fabric

"Yes."

And before he can answer Eugene cuts him off in a nicer way than usual, although Zia wouldn't really go so far as to call the kiss nice. It isn't as rough though, Eugene pressing Zia into the wall with his hips snug against the others', hand creeping beneath the shirt to drag up and down over Zia's stomach and chest. The younger could barely remember what they'd stopped here for, his eyes closed as he finally got to secure his fingers into Eugene's belt loops and feel a toned leg shifting between his, pressing up against-

"Gene! Z! Gotta leave if you want to make it to that clearing! As in now!"

Eugene tugs himself out of Zia's grasp, looking to the side as the other regains his breath and straightens his shirt. Eugene calls back that he's just finishing up and waits for Zia to drop in at his side, reaching into the other's pocket as if it's his own and fishing out a lighter.

"Can I have one?" Kostya is leaning against the hood of the car and straightens up when they approach, Eugene pulling a cigarette from behind his ear

"Zia will make you one. You still have roller?" Zia nods, "Get in front."

Kostya's eyebrow lifts briefly, exchanging a look with Zia, "You guys make out then?"

Zia stumbled over a rock, "What? I mean…no"

"You didn't make up?" The eyebrow lifts higher, opening the door for him, "You're back in front though."

"Oh, uh, yeah we're fine." he mutters, combing his fingers through his hair and not meeting Kostya's eyes.

~*~

While they drive Zia wonders if maybe this isn't really the world he left the first time. If the Eugene that sits behind the wheel is another Eugene entirely sent to make Zia _want _to go back to living. Because this is hell. He tears a larger hole at the bottom of his shirt while Kostya and Eugene talk about that one time they were in Russia and their aunt had refused to let Eugene in until he grew a proper beard or shaved it off.

"Did you do it?" Zia asks

"No," Eugene rolls down his window and steers with one hand, "slept at drummer's house."

"I think you'd look kind of good." Zia says because he can't help that his thoughts are in that general direction

"He did," Kostya leans forward, his face in between theirs, "Before the band. He used to be pretty clean cut actually. Only wore turtlenecks…even had highlights for a while."

Eugene let's go of the wheel and places a hand on Kostya's face, shoving him back, "Enough."

Kostya sits forward again with all the persistence of a younger brother, "Where do you think he picked up singing? Theater."

"Enough. One more word I kick you out."

But Zia is already picturing it. Eugene without his cap, smoking cigarettes outside a theater, a bit of a snob maybe. He leans against the window still, chin resting on his arm. He'd always liked that type. Desire had been a dancer, the lithe, toned build covered in dark form fitting jeans, old school chucks, a cardboard cup of coffee. He chances a glance at Eugene, trying to superimpose the image on him. Eugene catches him looking and clears his throat, something that could have been embarrassment passing over his face if Zia didn't know any better.

"There's the clearing." Kostya nudges Eugene's shoulder

"Do we, uh, really need to stop?" Zia lifts his head, "I mean I can take over if you don't feel like driving."

"You drank." Eugene grunts, pointing to the half empty bottle in the cup holder.

"You are _always_-" he stops himself and tries again, "Look, I just don't see the point of stopping. We can make it to town by morning if we keep going."

"Why do you went to get back so much?" Kostya interrupts, "Are you getting tired of us?"

"Eugene-"

"What?" he raises an eyebrow, daring a response.

Zia sighs, "Nothing."

~*~

It's not as bad as he thought. The circle of rocks they used last time is still in place and after a few moments it's filled with dry sticks and leaves and he's watching the flame build while Kostya and Eugene lay out the sleeping bags a few feet away. Eugene searches in the trunk and unearths a bag of oranges and when Zia asks why he bought them, he tosses a peel into the fire and takes a bite.

"It makes the fire last longer," Kostya explains, "there's a fireplace back at the apartment." He starts off into the forest, shouting back, "And it makes it smell nice too." before disappearing.

Eugene stands, leant against a tree, watching Zia in silence. The younger clears his throat, turning his attention to a stick lying in front of him. Instead of tossing it into the fire he fiddles with its twigs, intent on not looking up. There's the sound of shoes shifting against dirt and he ignores that too, tearing a browning leaf into a few pieces and securing it onto his caricature.

When he looks back up, Eugene is gone.

~*~

"What is this supposed to be me?"

Zia nods, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah look," he scoots closer to him on the log, "he's even got a little green guitar." He crosses his arms and rests them on his knees, looking up at Eugene, "Cool huh?"

"Just a twig."

But he still sets it to the side instead of tossing it and talk about how good the fish they caught tasted with the oranges and vodka. Zia has officially used up his paycheck, but before falling asleep Kostya had mentioned something about Jazon opening up a repair shop in town. Eugene's jaw had definitely clenched when he heard it which was when Zia had suggested letting Kostya sleep so they could share the last beer.

Eugene passes it back to him now and they share a comfortable silence. The sun has set and the orange red glow of the fire deepens on their skin. Earlier while fishing Eugene had shed his button up shirt and now wears only his usual white beater and slacks. The tee cuts around his arms, exposing the start of his chest and neck to the fire. The flames ghost forward with the wind, casting shadows into his eyes and light everywhere else, making his flesh seem to pulse and flush with warm blood. Which couldn't happen, they're all left in the state of their deaths and when the wind blows the flame towards Zia he can see the gray beneath Eugene's eyes and the faint blue underlying the red of his lips.

It's the anti-thesis of life and all the things that Zia has ever fallen in love with and yet when Eugene's hand falls on his to take back the beer, he shivers from more than just the chill of his fingers

"You going to watch me all night?"

"As opposed to what?" he drawls quietly, his eyes still sweeping over the width of Eugene's shoulders and the faux color of his cheeks.

Eugene sets the beer beside the campfire, his eyebrow raised once again daring Zia to move. Which is a thing he's noticed about Eugene. He always puts himself in everyone's space, blunt and simply _there _waiting for someone to take him. So Zia does. He lifts his head and presses his lips soft and yet firmly against the others' and given permission to press back, Eugene does. He places both hands on either side of Zia's neck and they bump teeth and stumble a bit because they're both pretty much sober and it's been forever since that night with Zia and his cousin's best friend.

But then Eugene's fingers tighten in Zia's hair and there's the taste of cigarettes and oranges and the feel of the gravel beneath Zia's back when they slip off the log and Eugene's short nails are lifting and pulling, trying to drag across Zia's skin through the holes in his shirt and eventually finding the hem to lift it off. And looking at Eugene's arms are different than feeling them because in reality there's muscle and strength and all he wants to do is bite into it and cause the same sting he feels when Eugene's teeth dig into his lower lip and takes the breath from his lungs.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Finished. First multi-chaptered fic with no beta so I might end up tweaking it a bit down the road, but for now…finished. Hope you guys like it ^__^.**

~*~

Somewhere in between Eugene's hand unbuckling Zia's pants as if he's been practicing for ages and Zia groaning as he feels Eugene's teeth abandon his lips for his collar, they find the sense not to continue with Kostya a few feet away. Zia pushes Eugene off him and kneeling their lips collide once more before he chokes out _"Car" _and they stand, dazed to walk towards it. Eugene is behind him as they make the walk and when Zia looks back the others' eyes are dark with pointed impatience, flicking towards trees, bushes and a thousand other places he'd like to shove Zia against. Like a chastised kid, Zia turns back around and swallows hard.

When they make it to the car he wonders if the walk maybe sobered Eugene up in a way. Made him realize that it was _Zia he'd just been kissing, that, that_

"Made it to car, satisfied?"

"Yeah, I am." Zia growls because for once he has something that Eugene wants

"What about me," Eugene growls back, pressing Zia's stomach against the hood in a swift movement, "You don't care about what I want." his mouth is against Zia's ear now, his erection grinding into the base of his spine so that Zia's only response is to groan and rub back against it.

"Gene…"

The air is cold and Zia's nipples are wound tight against the thin fabric of his shirt as Eugene keeps grinding against him, his knuckles white as he grips the collar of the younger man's shirt, pushing him down and away while still remaining close.

"Stay still, I can't-" Eugene's fingers, his callused rough fingers pulling down Zia's pants and feeling him through the cotton of his briefs, tugging and stroking and finally dipping beneath the waistband with his breath loud and hot over Zia's ear.

"Do you have-?"

"Yeah, had it in my pocket when I offed."

And before Zia can even wonder why he'd have lube in his pocket during a show, his forehead connects with the hood as Eugene tugs his underwear down and sparks ignite behind close lids as he shuts everything down and focuses on everything that's happening to him below the waist for once.

~*~

Afterward, Eugene smokes a cigarette. It might have been cliché, but Eugene is always smoking a cigarette so maybe it doesn't count this time. It's gotten later and the wind has picked up so Eugene has his shirt on, but Zia's content laying against him in the backseat, a thin blanket pulled up over his navel and Eugene's legs, leaving his chest exposed to the cool air.

"So that was somehow less gay then kissing." Zia says, because it has to be said so that Eugene knows how ridiculous he'd sounded before

"Yeah. It's logic."

"You know I don't even think you know what that word means, man."

Eugene grunts in reply which Zia is realizing is as good as a laugh.

"Lock the door." Eugene yawns, threading his fingers through Zia's hair and tossing the cigarette out the window.

"The window's open, why lock the door?"

"Because I want you to lock the door."

"Fine I'll lock the door."

"You're pulling the blanket , never mind lay back down."

"You just told me to-"

"Look I said lay back down. What does the door need to be locked for anyways?"

Zia rolls his eyes, but lays back down because he kind of got his way anyway. Eugene will always be Eugene. He'll keep his tapes in his left breast pocket, cut people off and emphasize the "brutal" of brutally honest. But in the end all that will matter isn't the changes he doesn't make, but the ones he does. The one that makes him sleep on his side instead of on his back to make room for Zia. Which is what makes it worth it, really. Something worth dying for.


End file.
